The November wind rattled the windows of the Sterling Era Training Complex. Inside the office of Michael Sterling it was warm but the atmosphere was heavy with numbers.

Michael sat at his desk. He was not looking at tactical maps. He was looking at bank accounts.

Arthur Milton sat opposite him. The old scout looked miserable. He was holding a glass of dark purple liquid.

"Drink it Arthur," Michael said without looking up.

"It tastes like soil," Arthur complained staring at the beetroot juice. "It tastes like I am licking a garden."

"Leo Volt says it improves blood flow to the brain," Michael said. "We need big brains for the transfer window. Drink."

Arthur closed his eyes and swallowed the juice in one gulp. He shuddered.

"Horrible," Arthur gasped. "If we do not win the league I am suing Leo Volt."

Michael laughed. He turned his laptop around.

"Look at this Arthur. Forget the juice. Look at the value."

Michael pressed a button on his keyboard. The System interface projected into the air. It was a golden hologram that only Michael could see but he read the numbers out loud for Arthur.

[SQUAD VALUATION UPDATE: NOVEMBER]

NAME: KAI SORA

PURCHASE PRICE: £0 (Academy)

CURRENT MARKET VALUE: £125,000,000

STATUS: WORLD CLASS

"One hundred and twenty five million," Michael whispered. "He is worth more than the stadium."

"And he still sleeps in the locker room," Arthur noted.

Michael scrolled down.

NAME: ISAIAH KING

PURCHASE PRICE: £0 (Free Agent)

CURRENT MARKET VALUE: £90,000,000

STATUS: WONDERKID

"Arsenal let him go for free," Michael said shaking his head. "They threw away ninety million pounds."

"They threw away a diamond because it had some dirt on it," Arthur said wisely.

NAME: KENJI SATO

PURCHASE PRICE: £50,000

CURRENT MARKET VALUE: £65,000,000

STATUS: ELITE ENGINE

"That is a return on investment of... a lot," Michael calculated. "Kenji is the best business deal in the history of football."

NAME: DIEGO NUNEZ

PURCHASE PRICE: £300,000

CURRENT MARKET VALUE: £55,000,000

STATUS: INJURED (VALUE FROZEN)

"Diego would be worth eighty if he was fit," Arthur said. "Defenders are expensive these days."

Michael closed the laptop.

"The total squad value is over five hundred million pounds Arthur. We built a half billion pound empire in eighteen months."

"And we still have not won a trophy," Arthur reminded him. "Money is nice Boss. But trophies are shiny. I want shiny."

"We are working on it," Michael said.

The door to the office burst open.

It was Jessica Sterling. Michael's sister and Head of Social Media. She was holding a stack of letters. She looked excited.

"Michael!" Jessica shouted. "The mail just arrived. It is official."

"What is official?" Michael asked.

"The International Break," Jessica said placing the letters on the desk. "Look at the stamps."

Michael looked.

There was a letter with the crest of the French Football Federation.

A letter with the crest of the Japan Football Association.

A letter with the crest of the English Football Association.

"It is happening," Michael said softly.

For a small club like Barnsley the International Break was usually a quiet time. The players would go on holiday. The manager would sleep.

But Barnsley were not a small club anymore.

Michael walked down to the canteen. The players were eating lunch. They were all drinking the beetroot juice. Most of them looked unhappy about it.

"This juice is violent," Diego Nunez grunted. "It fights my stomach."

"It makes you strong Diego," Kenji Sato said drinking his cup calmly. "Samurai drink bitter tea. We drink bitter roots."

"I am a Bull not a Samurai," Diego argued.

Michael tapped his glass with a spoon.

"Listen up!"

The room went quiet.

"I have some news," Michael said holding up the letters. "You have all worked hard. You have fought giants. You have bled for this badge."

He picked up the first letter.

"Benjamin Pavard."

Pavard looked up. He was eating a croissant.

"France have called you up," Michael said. "You are back in the squad."

Pavard smiled. It was a cool confident smile. "Did Deschamps apologize?"

"He did not write an apology," Michael laughed. "But he wants you back."

The room applauded.

Michael picked up the second letter.

"Kenji Sato."

Kenji stood up immediately. He stood at attention.

"Japan have called you up," Michael said. "For the senior team. The Blue Samurai."

Kenji froze. His eyes filled with tears. He bowed to Michael. Then he bowed to Arthur. Then he bowed to the juice machine.

"I will run for my country," Kenji whispered. "I will not stop running."

Kai Sora clapped lazily. "Good job Kenji. Do not forget to bring me back some Japanese snacks."

"And Kai," Michael said holding up another letter.

Kai looked surprised. He lowered his sunglasses. "Me?"

"Japan wants you too," Michael said. "They want the Architect."

Kai sighed. A long deep sigh.

"Tokyo is very far away Boss," Kai said. "It is twelve hours on a plane. The seats are uncomfortable."

"They are sending a private jet," Michael lied. "With a bed."

Kai thought about it. "Okay. If there is a bed I will go."

Then Michael picked up the last letter. The one with the Three Lions on the crest.

He looked at Isaiah King.

Isaiah was wearing his pink tracksuit. He was pretending not to listen but his leg was bouncing nervously under the table.

"Isaiah," Michael said.

Isaiah looked up. "Yeah Boss?"

"Gareth Southgate has been watching you," Michael said. "He saw the goal at the Emirates. He saw the assist against United."

The room was silent.

"You are in the England squad," Michael announced. "The senior squad."

Isaiah did not move. He stared at Michael.

"Me?" Isaiah whispered. "The reject? The kid who is too small?"

"You," Michael said. "You are going to Wembley Isaiah. Not as a fan. As a player."

Isaiah stood up. He looked like he was going to faint. Then he screamed.

"MOM! I MADE IT!"

Isaiah jumped on the table. He kicked a plate of pasta by accident.

"I AM AN ENGLAND PLAYER!" Isaiah roared. "IT IS COMING HOME!"

The room erupted. Diego Nunez grabbed Isaiah and lifted him onto his shoulders. The players chanted his name.

"ISAIAH! ISAIAH!"

Michael watched them. He felt a swell of pride in his chest.

They were his boys. He had found them in the dirt and polished them into diamonds.

Two days later the training ground was quiet.

It felt empty.

Pavard was in Paris. Kenji and Kai were in Tokyo. Isaiah was at St George's Park training with Harry Kane and Jude Bellingham.

Michael sat in his office. It was peaceful.

"It is too quiet," Arthur said looking out the window at the empty pitch. "I do not like it. Who will I shout at?"

"You can shout at Diego," Michael said.

Diego Nunez had stayed behind. His knee was healing but he was not ready for international football yet.

Diego was currently in the gym doing pull ups with a heavy chain around his neck. He looked like a prisoner preparing for a riot.

"Diego is scary when he is bored," Arthur noted. "He tried to tackle the cleaning lady yesterday. Just for practice."

"We need to keep him busy," Michael agreed.

He opened his laptop.

[SYSTEM STATUS: INTERNATIONAL BREAK]

[TRAINING FOCUS: RECOVERY]

[SCOUTING OPPORTUNITY: HIGH]

With the main stars gone Michael had time to think about the future.

The January window was coming. They had money. They had reputation.

But they also had a target on their backs.

Michael clicked on the scouting tab.

He had sent a scout to Norway to look for the winger called The Axe.

A report had come back.

SCOUT REPORT: ERIK OLSEN

CLUB: BODO/GLIMT

MATCHES WATCHED: 3

GOALS: 4

NOTES: He plays in the snow in a t shirt. He is fearless. He has a left foot like a hammer.

"Arthur," Michael said. "Book a flight to Norway."

"Norway?" Arthur asked. "It is freezing there Boss. My joints will freeze."

"Take a coat," Michael said. "We need to sign this kid before Dortmund or Leipzig see him. We need depth."

"The Axe," Arthur read the name on the screen. "Another monster for the collection."

"Exactly," Michael said.

Later that day Michael went down to the gym.

Diego Nunez was boxing. He was hitting a heavy bag so hard that the chain was creaking.

"Diego," Michael said.

Diego stopped. He was sweating. "Yes Boss?"

"How is the knee?"

"It is angry," Diego said touching the scar. "It wants to return. It wants to hit strikers."

" soon," Michael promised. "But I need you to do something for me."

"Kill someone?"

"No," Michael laughed. "I need you to be a leader. While the others are away you are the boss of the training ground. We have the young academy kids training with us this week. They are scared of you."

Diego frowned. "Why?"

"Because you are a giant who eats raw meat," Michael said. "I want you to teach them. Teach them how to be strong. Teach them how to be a Bull."

Diego thought about it. A smile appeared on his face.

"I can teach them," Diego said. "I will make them eat gravel. I will make them run until they cry."

"Maybe less crying," Michael suggested. "But yes. Make them tough."

"Okay Boss," Diego said. "I am the Professor now. Professor Bull."

Michael walked away smiling.

The international break was a pause. A breath.

But the machine did not stop.

In Tokyo Kai Sora was teaching the Japanese national team how to pass without looking.

In London Isaiah King was showing Harry Kane his pink boots.

In Barnsley Diego Nunez was terrorizing teenagers.

And in his office Michael Sterling was plotting the next move.

Michael looked at the Premier League table one more time.

Ninth place.

"When they come back," Michael whispered to the empty room. "We climb."

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